


honey drip

by thanatopis



Series: honey pot genji au [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"Above him, Genji is all tawny beige skin, warm and misting with sweat as he writhes above McCree, rotating his hips in slow circles that has McCree’s breath halving, because he’s never been in someone so wet, tight, and deliciously hot all over."</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	honey drip

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Genji is considerably younger in the Overwatch world. As reference, Genji in this fic is 23, while the rest of the cast are their same canon ages. In this AU, Genji never tried leaving the clan, therefore Hanzo never tried to kill him. It’s kind of a dark AU in my mind, because the Shimada Bros are kind of scary, all of course for different reasons.

Genji on top of McCree is a sight to see.

Despite his better judgement, McCree has always found himself charmed by the little spicy spitfire rocking down to a soundless rhythm in his lap.

There's unbelievable promise in Genji's dark eyes and sin in the devilish curve of his mouth as he spreads his fingers, his palms planted flat on McCree’s chest, as he scratches blunt nails through the thick patch of wiry hair that's sprinkled gray on McCree’s sternum.

While Genji gets noticeable thrills off of their considerable age gap of about fourteen years, McCree tries his best to ignore it. Though it’s difficult when it shows so plainly in the differences of their bodies.

Genji is lithe and toned, no ounce of fat visible on his body, where in comparison McCree's stomach swells where it used to lie flat and defined in his prime. His muscles are far from their heyday, hidden underneath the well-meaning weight he’s gained since he hit his mid-thirties and bounty hunting became his main source of pay.

He’s not a bad looking guy, McCree knows this, but compared to Genji…it’s a wonder the youngin’ even entertains McCree on any kind of basis. He tries not to let the insecurity of his body affect him—tries to tell himself that his affection and desire for the youngest Shimada is not, in the least bit, one-sided.

Genji wants this. Wants _him_ and McCree would be a fool to only question the why of it all when Genji is the one who regularly seeks _him_ out, yearns for _his_ attention and time. It’s the biggest head rush, like knowing you’re your parent’s favorite child without ever having to be told. McCree will be damned if he ever questions Genji’s choice in bed partners, not when he’s a had a taste, eager to keep that specific flavor on the tip of his tongue for as long as he can.

Above him, Genji is all tawny beige skin, warm and misting with sweat as he writhes above McCree, rotating his hips in slow circles that has McCree’s breath halving, because he’s never been in someone so wet, tight, and deliciously hot all over.

His back is damp with the exertion of keeping still, allowing Genji the benefit of controlling the pace even though he’s a teasing bastard. McCree’s skin sticks to the rumbled white bed sheets that have seen a few rounds since McCree and Genji collapsed in heap of limbs and fervor about two hours ago. Their bodies haven’t parted once, like those hard to pull apart magnets kids fiddle with when they need a distraction.

Time distorts with Genji, McCree’s learned. The minuets pass through his fingers like the driest of sand, rivulets like water.

In this lapse, McCree’s mind is a rampant chorus of thoughts pertaining at how best to make Genji slip into his native tongue with mindless pleasure, babbling nonsense about how good McCree gives it to him. He’s never seen something so utterly erotic than Genji begging in Japanese, English completely unattainable in his euphoric daze.

It takes special effort not to just rise up and reverse their positions—to not just raise Genji’s legs high in the air and have a go at him like the world is ending right outside this bedroom and tonight is his last chance to enjoy something so simple and carnally base.

In the end, Genji wouldn’t be pleased.

His boy knows what he likes, and McCree so very rarely denies Genji want he wants.

He’s a sucker for the little assassin, and Genji knows as much—uses it to his advantage every chance he can get. McCree can’t even blame the kid really. He brought this whole cluster-fuck of a situation onto himself, allowing for those eyes and that charismatic demeanor to ensnare him the first night they had met.

Genji brings McCree back into the present with a slow, grinding roll of his hips. His smile is sultry and lush as he rolls his back, humming low in his throat because the angle is good. Genji preens like a cat as McCree focuses in on his rippling stomach, tracing a hand down his abs.

“You were distracted Jesse, thought I’d bring you back,” Genji says in that flirtatiously accented tone that promises the best kind of torture. “Unless…you don’t appreciate the sight of me riding your cock, which— _ah_ —has to be impossible, right?”

McCree huffs a laugh, digs the pads of his fingers into Genji’s delectable ass, not moving but guiding the slow, powerful grind of hips.

“You’re just fishing for compliments aren’t ya’, kid?” McCree bites his lip with a groan when a particular roll gets him in _deep_. Genji sighs a sweet thing of a sound and ruts on the base of his cock, throwing his head forwards and rocking back and forth like he’ll die without this.

“You know you’re gorgeous darlin’.” McCree murmurs, awed and enamored as he watches Genji’s face crumble in pleasure.

McCree runs his palms up Genji’s sides reverently, brushing his thumbs over his nipples in feather light circles. McCree grins when Genji jumps a bit at the stimulation, breathing hard through his nose, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to move his hips at the same time.

Genji always seems surprised by how sensitive those dusty pink peaks are and how much he likes having them plucked at and sucked on like a girl’s. McCree _loves_ it. Vows to dedicate a night when he’s not practically bursting at the seams with eagerness to get his hands on Genji, to love on those nipples until Genji comes from it, or at least is begging too.

“Mmm, do I not tell you that enough, sweetheart?” McCree grins, sliding a warm, broad hand around Genji’s back where his tattoo resides like a finely crafted mural come to life. McCree pities he can’t see it at the moment, and traces the pads of his fingers where the dragon twists and coils on Genji’s skin.

Genji groans and leans down into it, arching his back and spreading his knees so he’s hovering over McCree, lips inches away from his own. He’s a little breathless at the change in angle when he says, “Not _nearly_ enough, Jesse.”

“So vain,” McCree snorts, the sound incredibly fond along with the twinkle in his eyes.

McCree has never been in love before, has no prior experience to compare it to, but he might be in a bit of trouble if it feels anything like this.

No one ever said he was the brightest bulb in the box, but growing _this_ attached to the youngest son of the Shimada clan is definitely one of the dumbest things McCree has ever done, and he’s done some pretty dumb shit.

It’s not like Genji doesn’t know who he is however.

McCree suspects Genji likes the idea of flirting with the danger he represents—former Overwatch member, one that unsuccessfully assisted in trying to bring down the Shimada clan when Genji was no more than just a boy.

It also helps that Genji can’t seem to resist defying his older brother if he can get away with it.

The eldest holds distaste for anything and anyone that does not have to do with his family or their arms trading business. To say Hanzo would flip shit if he ever found out his little brother was shacking it up with McCree would be the biggest _understatement_. Hanzo has an odd sort of possessiveness streak when it comes to his little brother--one that is fierce, violent at times, and passionate. McCree doesn’t like to think too deeply about it, or the implications of such devoted attachment.

Genji never seems bothered by it, so why should he?

“You’re thinking of something troublesome again…” Genji says, lips brushing lightly over McCree’s cheek in an attempt to grab his attention back.

McCree will admit he’s usually never this introspective when he has a gorgeous man in his lap, sitting on his dick like it’s his own personal throne. His _head_ really isn’t part of the equation then, but there’s something about the night and its otherworldliness that has McCree thoughtful.

“Stop it.” Genji orders like the spoiled brat he is, used to getting everything he wants. He nudges his mouth against McCree’s in a silent demand for a kiss. McCree’s lips curve in a smile as he angles his head and cradles Genji’s face in his hands, giving his boy what he wants because he can’t _not_ do so.

Genji meets him with blood searing urgency until McCree forces him to slow it down, enjoying the stubborn little growls Genji gives when he pushes needlessly forward, smooth chest pressing against the fur of McCree’s own.

He’s so small next to McCree like this, though Genji’s size has never let anything hinder him—McCree included.

His tongue slides along Genji’s own, silky and sinful, before he sucks on his bottom lip. Genji’s mouth softens with pleasure as a moan flitters hot on McCree’s lips, and it fans the fires burning low in McCree’s belly.

Genji is nothing but shameless and needy as McCree’s cock jostles inside of him, hitting a spot that makes both men gasp, rubbing all over his body.

“Move for me sweetheart, or else I’m going to throw you on your back and make you forget I ever gave you the choice.” McCree grunts, spreading his legs wider as Genji pushes back onto him.

Genji laughs a breathy huff on the side of his neck, still maintaining that snail’s pace that has McCree positively aching for him to go faster.

“What’s stopping you for doing just that Jesse?” Genji asks coyly, voice hitching a bit at the end, but otherwise Genji continues to remain cool and in control of his reactions. McCree wants the very opposite. Wants those gasping moans, the shouts of pure pleasure, the involuntary spasms of his legs when McCree fucking him deep, fast, and hard.

His cock twitches just thinking about it.

Genji rears his head back until he’s a few inches from his face, brow raised in question.

McCree swipes his tongue along his bottom lip in a slow, deliberate sweep and smirks inwardly when he watches Genji’s eyes follow the motion.

“What’s stopping me darlin’ is the way you bounce when you’re eager and hot for it,” McCree begins, voice husky and deep. “I don’t have to do much of nothin’ other than watch you ride me like you want nothin’ else but my cock lovin’ you deep. You want it too—you’re just playin’ hard to get, but I like that about ya’.” McCree grins.

Genji smiles back at McCree, unable not too as he hums, pleased.

“I love it when you talk like that,” Genji murmurs on a quiet breath, running his hands all over McCree’s chest. “But I love it more when you make me take it, when you don’t give me a choice but to…” Genji trails off, making soft little aborted noises in his throat as McCree sucks kisses on the underside of his jaw. He clenches around McCree, purposely or not, he doesn’t know, but Genji is testing his control in the best way. His teeth dig into that creamy milky skin, hoping to leave a reminder when they’re finished here.

“Oh, I can make you take it,” McCree assures, spreading his legs wider, bending his knees, and planting his feet on the bed as he grips at the alluring curve of Genji’s sides hard. Genji pushes back with a heavy rush of breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes shine with giddy anticipation.

McCree grins a wolf’s smile.

“Then what are you waiting for Jesse? Give it to me. I need you so bad.”

It’s shit like that McCree can’t resist.

He pushes up into Genji’s body gradually, until Genji repositions on the balls of his feet to get the best movement, balancing himself on McCree’s chest as he shoves down, a gasping cry leaving his lips.

Just like that, the flood gates break and McCree is grabbing at Genji greedily, pumping up into him with a single track mind of nothing other than getting the fuck off.

It’s funny to McCree how the quietness of a room can turn into a booming symphony.

The slap of their damp skin is loud and obscene, Genji’s moans and cries ricochets off the walls, and McCree’s breathy grunts and groans are the underlying bass of their music that ties it all together.

It doesn’t take long for McCree to start feeling those tell-tell signs of his impending orgasm. Genji’s just too good, too fucking sexy, and he turns McCree on like nothing else.

Genji’s _really_ bouncing now, just how McCree likes him: his head thrown back, eyes blissfully closed, a constant stream of _uh uh uh_ being fucked out of him, and he’s the prettiest damn thing McCree has ever seen.

“Touch your cock,” McCree orders, needing Genji to finish first.

Genji’s eyes lazily open out of his pleasured daze. He blinks a few times in confusion before he seems to finally get it. Genji makes a grateful whining keen as he moves his hand hurriedly to his rigid cock, stroking over it with desperate motions, all the while rocking wildly on McCree’s dick.

McCree watches him as the inferno in his gut eats him up. He wishes he could get his mouth around that pretty prick, feel it pulse around his lips, and empty inside his throat.

Next time, McCree thinks.

“Yeah,” He moans. “Get yourself off for me sweetheart. You’re so close.”

And Genji does, with a shaking cry that cuts off about half way as he spasms so hard, McCree has to hold him down lest he fly right off his lap. McCree fucks Genji through it, coming hard when the younger man involuntarily clenches around his cock vice-like, and it feels like he’s dying and coming home all at once.

Genji collapses on top of McCree, boneless and utterly fucked out and McCree feels a surge of pride that he can make Genji feel so satisfied even at his old age. He still has it, yes siree’.  

Despite the heat, Genji still manages to snuggle into McCree’s neck and rub his nose over McCree’s facial hair in an incredibly cat-like way. McCree just chuckles, abet weakly and disoriented as hell because— _goddamn_ —

“ _Mother Mary, Jesus Christ_ —you’re gonna kill me one of these days’ kid.” McCree wheezes.

He can feel Genji’s smile like a sharp blade on his skin, “It would be the very best way to go, Jesse.”

McCree can’t argue that. Not at all.


End file.
